Untouchables
by YllisBellaDonna
Summary: A simple ROMY, fluff is HERE! UPDATED! Now with 4 chapters! R&R people...
1. Default Chapter

Review: For now, a beginning to a ROMY with fluff ahead and, of course, obstacles for our favorite X-Couple. Disclaimer: I owe very little, and the characters in this story are just some of the things I do NOT owe (though I do have a Gambit Action Figure, it's very nice). Rating: G for now Be sure to REVIEW, as this is my first try at this... ***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***  
  
The keys turned and the engine stopped. The proud red and black Harley that prowled the streets of New York at top speeds just a few minutes ago was now silent. Dead.  
The rider kicked out the stand and took a quick look at his beauty before flicking his dying cigarette to the ground.  
At leas' I understand you, he thought as his eyes wandered over the bike's shimmering body. "C'est all mechanics wit' you. A minor adjus'ment here, oilin' there, a bit o' love and you run like a gem. If only women were that simple, eh ma chére?" As he said this he drew another cigarette from the pack he kept in the inside pocket of his old, dark brown duster. "Such a dirty habit, you really should quit, Remy," he muttered to himself as he lit the new cigarette that now dangled between his lips. "Phaa, now you talkin' like her! You really need to get 'way from that girl." But even as he said these words, he knew he couldn't. Rogue had been a part of his life for years now. And though it wasn't difficult for him to forget about a girl, Rogue was one he could never seem to shake out of his head.  
He gazed down on the city from the top of this small hill. The hill he always came to when his mind was overflowing. He thought about her and realized that this time, it was his heart that was overflowing, not his mind. The lights shinning out from all the homes and businesses that were still up and running at two in the morning reminded him of the sparkles in her eyes. The slight fragrance of flowers in the air was shockingly similar to her perfume.  
"You poor fool. So many o'der chéres out der, you pick da one you can't have."  
Remy LeBeau, or Gambit as he is known by friends and foe alike, is a mutant. Thanks to a defective gene, know as the "X" gene, Remy has the ability to charge small objects (sometimes large ones too) with kinetic energy. This energy is released in the form of explosions. There are many types of mutants, for the "X" gene adapts differently to each individual who carries it. Some, like Remy, could hide their "gifts" by slight, or no alterations, if the need should arise. In others, the "X" gene affects the outward appearance. Strange skin colors, feathers, fur, scales, or other such deformities make it impossible for these unfortunate souls to go out in public without being recognized as mutants. Due to their special powers and odd looks, mutants are feared by many "normal" humans. As we have learned throughout the course of time and history, fear, more often than not, leads to hatred. This hatred is experienced by many, if not all, mutants around the world. The hatred from some "normals" is so strong that torching buildings, publicly beating mutants (or muties as they call them), and other violent acts were common. All too common. This led to the separation of mutants into two very different groups. Those who believe they are superior to humans thought mutants were the next step in the evolutionary ladder, and therefore humans must be eliminated. Others believe that if they work long and hard enough, humans and mutants could live together in harmony.  
Remy didn't know if he fit in to either of these groups. But for now, he fought for peace, for good, for her.  
To look at him this night, as he stood gazing over the city, one would not think this a very dangerous man. He was not tall, nor bulging with muscles, though it was clear he spent a bit more than his fair share of time in the gym. His eyes were covered with black sunglasses. He wore these not only to shield his sensitive eyes from the light, but to shield the looks and comments of others which occasionally got on his nerves. If, by chance, he were to remove these shades and a person were to look into Remy's face, the viewer would find a pair of blood-red on black eyes staring back. This was the one evidence of Remy's mutant powers. When Remy became infuriated, his eyes would appear to be colored not by pigments, but by flames, blazing inside his red pupils. Yet now, as he stood on this hill, he was not in the least bit upset. Only lost in thought. And so, if someone was to pass by, they would see what looked to be a mere human male, in a deep state of wonder. Only if this imaginary viewer were to attack Remy would they learn (and learn quickly) how wrong they were to assume him harmless.  
Remy LeBeau grew up in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The only family he had ever known was a gang called the Thieves' Guild. Remy knew of no true mother or father in the biological sense. Even if he wanted to find them, the odds were stacked against him. He did not know if he had been abandoned and left for dead, as the Guild leaders told him, or kidnapped from a happy home like other acquaintances of his had suggested. It mattered not. Either way, Remy grew up calling Jean-Luc, the man who claimed to have found him, "father." He lived on the streets. His "family" taught him basic survival tips like stealing, hiding, running, fighting, and when to do what. Remy was a fast learner. By the age of seven, he was one of the best pickpockets around. He continued this line of work for years, yet was never caught. Remy had no police record, and he aimed to keep it that way. By giving up the art of thievery? No. By advancing his already fine-tuned art of escaping the not-quite-long-enough arm of the law.  
Remy's problems were not with the law, but with that other "L" word. The four letter one. The one that means so much to so many. The one used in a plethora of songs and poems. Love. The word scared the brave man. He had known many women, true, but did he love them? That was a different question entirely.  
The Cajun had three passions: stealing, women, and Harleys. Of these, the only one that gave him any trouble was figuring out women. Theft was an art he had mastered over the years. With a little research and a wad of cash, he bought his first Harley at the age of seventeen. Women he had never understood. In all his twenty-six years, women had been a mystery, and he had a feeling they would remain as thus for the rest of his life.  
  
***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*** That's it for now, more to come soon though, the sooner you review, the sooner it comes! ~YllisBellaDonna~ 


	2. The Other Side

**Sigh, well, here's the second installment to my little world of fantasy.  A little more background this time, I actually started writing this story three years ago for a High School Creative Writing class.  I revamped the first chapter, but this chapter is entirely new.  It's kind of hard to write since I've been off this train of thought for so long, but a different train will come along.**

**Quick word to my reviewer, ****c-marabini, thank you very much for the advice, I'm not used to this website yet and it might be a while before I get a handle on the formatting.  Oh, and in response to your profile, I hope 20 years old isn't too old to write fanfiction, otherwise, I'm in trouble.  ;o)**

**Anyways, here's the story…**

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Disclaimer:  I own very little, and the X-Men are one of the many things I DO NOT own.  Don't sue, plus, it would not be worth your time *empties pockets* see, nothing.

This is a quick view at what's going on in Rogue's life on the same night as Chapter one.  I've upped the rating because of one bit of foul language I had to include to establish a character.

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The Other Side.

While our favorite thief was out admiring the stars, the person in his thoughts was not having such a tranquil moment.

"Ruf'n' crappy, stupid goddamn thing!"  The girl was storming around her room, fists clenched, emerald eyes flickering with rage, trying not to throw the frustrating piece of mechanical evilness half-way across the world. Half-way across the world?  Am I exaggerating?  No need to, the truth is much more interesting, yet somewhat sad.  The beautiful (yet very ticked off) partial red-head went by the name "Rogue" and was a student at Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Children.  A child she was not, being a full 24 years in age, but a student, yes.  Currently she was a student struggling quite a bit with a very important assignment.  She would not accept failure on her part, but she glared at the machine that was on her wrist, suspecting failure on its part.  

"'Ah never did like electronics," she growled, looking directly at the device, in a pseudo-threat.  The device just didn't flinch.  She sighed deeply, "okay Rogue," she said to herself, "You've got to concentrate.  You can do this; you've GOT to do this!"  She took another deep breath and screwed up her courage and strength before reaching down to her wrist and pressing a button on the mechanical bracelet.  A green light flickered to life and she sat back down in front of her television.

Rogue, like the man off thinking about her, was a mutant.  Her mutant powers, however, were a bit harder to control.  While Remy had learned to control the explosive detonators that were his hands within a few months of gaining his powers, Rogue was still struggling with hers, many years after that horrible day they came to the surface.  It was one of a thousand memories she tried to push away as much as possible, but it's hard to quite the voice inside your head when it's not your own.  Rogue grew up in a small Mississippi town, doing all the things any normal Southern Belle would.  She rode horses and played dolls as a young girl and tried out for the cheerleading squad in Junior High.  She had always been a natural beauty, and her childhood best-friend, Cody, fell for her as soon as his voice started cracking and his body started doing strange things.  Cody was raised to be a Southern Gentleman though, and while he had feelings for Rogue, it took him quite some time to get up the nerve to ask her out.  Rogue had agreed to go out with him, trying to not let out how much she liked him when accepting his offer.  Their first date was amazing, as first dates should be.  They were young, in puppy love, and the world (well, at least their small hometown) was theirs for the taking.  The happiness was not meant to last however, as, just when the date was ending; Rogue's world took a drastic dive.  Cody had walked her to her door and they had both stood there saying those nervous phrases, waiting for the other to make a move, when Cody bent forward and his lips met with Rogue's in her first kiss.  It was the most wonderful feeling for about three seconds, and then the tingly feeling of a first kiss morphed into pain.  Cody felt his energy, no, his life, draining out of him.  Rogue felt as if her mind was being entered, invaded.  She heard his voice in her head, scared and pleading, "What's going on?  Oh God, please stop!"  She heard his cries for help, and she tried to pull away, but something kept her from moving.  It wasn't until the boy collapsed on the ground, his consciousness gone, never to return, that the two broke contact.  But the voices in Rogue's head continued.  He was still there, still in her!  She ran inside to fetch her parents, scared and helpless.  When her father saw the boy on his porch and listened to Rogue's story, his eyes echoed the pain, fear, and shame in his heart.  He had heard about strange happenings in other places, when people suddenly took on super-human abilities.  Mutants they had called them.  He stared at his daughter, huddled in her mother's arms.

"Mama," he spoke to his wife, "let go of that muttie!"

Rogue stared at her father, fear-stricken.  Her mother backed away from the frightened girl, and Rogue looked back at her.  "Mama…" she pleaded.  The woman looked away, tears in her eyes, her head shaking.  "Mama?" Rogue questioned her mother, but her father replied.  "No, this fine woman is no mother of a mutant, no mother of a FREAK!"  "Daddy!" Rogue pleaded.  The man blared back at his child, his own flesh and blood.  "NO!  'AH am no father of a FREAK!  'Ah have no child!  You have disgraced this family, destroyed everythang 'Ah've worked for, you have no place in this house anymore!"  The man grabbed the scared child by her shoulder and threw her out the door before slamming it in her tear-filled face.  

From then on, Rogue had been on her own, until he found her, took her in, taught her how to control her powers to an extent; he adopted a lost soul.

Rogue shook her head, snapping back into reality and glanced down at the device on her wrist.  The green light was still on, though it had started to blink.  She smiled, she was getting better.

Over the years, Rogue had learned to control the voices in her head of the people she had touched, thus absorbing… absorbing what?  Their thoughts, their memories, sometimes their powers, their life-force it seemed.  She had also learned to control her "adopted" powers of super-strength and flight.  However, she still struggled on preventing the addition of another voice to the bunch.  Dr. Hank McCoy, a friend, colleague, and fellow mutant known as The Beast, had focused his super intelligence into assisting the girl that felt no human touch for years.  He had created a device that could sense when Rogue's powers were active and she practiced controlling them by concentrating and then touching the extra-sensitive surface.  She did this once a week at first, her sessions lasting about half an hour before exhaustion hit her.  Slowly, the sessions became longer, and then more frequent.  Finally, Beast presented Rogue with this high-tech bracelet, that she could turn on and then go about her business, with her sub-conscious working to control her powers.  It did not block her powers, it was simply an aid.  When her powers returned, the bracelet would beep at that annoying frequency all machines seem to have and the light that stayed a steady green when her powers were in full control would flash red violently.

Rogue couldn't find anything good on the small television set that glowed in front of her, so she settled for some new reality TV. show and she stared rather blankly on it until exhaustion forced her eyelids to fall and sleep swept over her.  Her left hand dropped to her side and the remote dropped to the floor as the bracelet continued to blink slowly.

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**Well, that's it… for now!  I hope the spacing on this entry comes out better.  I also hope you enjoyed this segment; it was fun to write, though I think my little tangent about Rogue's past might have been a bit too long…  As always, please review!  Thank you, come again!**

**~YllisBellaDonna~**


	3. And Truth is in a Tall Beer

**A/N: Well, I got more responses to that last chapter, but my spider-senses tell me that the increase in responses might be due to an increase in time.  Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't written more lately, but it's that time of year again!  The time where all the students on campus are walking around with red eyes, barely looking alive.  You guessed it!  It's mid-terms!  Everybody groan!  So, yeah, I just finished my second test of the week, with two more to go next Wednesday, so, if I don't update in a while, don't kill me, Genetics and French are already doing that.  Less work for you, yeay!  So, here's my disclaimer and then some "word up"s to my readers, and THEN, the THIRD part of this story…**

**Disclaimer:  Okay, so I don't own the X-Men, but I do enjoy playing with them.  But, if I owned them, I could play with them all the time!  Hmmm, let the plotting begin!!!  Bwahahaha!**

**Shout-Outs:**

**Rogue14:****  I just got your review, and now I'm writing, happy?**

**Kookie**** Dough: **** Well, I am writing again, don't know if it's "good", but hey, that's what you're here for!**

**Weapon x 61:****  Yes, I know, I promised ROMY action, and, do not despare!  There WILL be ROMY action, I just don't know when, so, keep checking!  And reviewing!**

**Tammy:****  Yeah, I always thought Rogue was a rather sad character (meaning you sympathize with her), but her luck will improve… someday…**

**ishandahalf:**  **"Cool beans", that brings back lovely Jumanji memories.  Oh, and after reading your great fanfic, "February Fifteenth", my roommate and I have one thing to say to you, "HUZZAH!"  (Am I allowed to plug others' fics?)**

**Star-Of-Chaos: **** Meh, I'm not really "worried" about the age thing, after all, "you're only as old as you feel," though by that, my age fluctuates rapidly.  Look, I'm 50!  Wait, no, I'm 5!  Weeeeeee!**

**c-marabini:****  I know I answered your review before, but, I'm still trying to get my formatting down, this site confuses, and I'm not a big fan of Word, which I'm currently using, if you, or anyone, has any recommendations for a better WP to use for writing fanfic's, please let me know?  If you recommend a good one, I'll dedicate a chapter after you!**

**Additional disclaimer:  The name of this chapter is taken from a Dashboard Confessional  song.  I own no rights to Dashboard Confessional  whatsoever, though I do recommend that you listen to some of their wonderful songs (wow, I'm just full of plugs today, I should get paid for this…).**

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**And Truth is in a Tall Beer:**

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Back to the Cajun…

Remy lost track of time as he gazed at the stars without really seeing them.  Thoughts were racing through his mind about the past few days.  Rogue had always kept him at a distance from the day they met.  She did this for both his and her own good.  But the sweet-talking "Prince of Thieves" had worked long and hard to shorten the distance, and Rogue had started to give in to his attempts over time.  But recently she had been very distant indeed.  When he tried to talk to her, she looked at if she was concentrating on something else and he would often catch her off guard by throwing in questions she didn't answer correctly.  She spent a lot of time in her room and whenever Remy would come in without knocking to talk to her or surprise her with some small gift or outing, she would make a rush to hide whatever it was she was doing.  Remy had caught a few glances of what looked like electronic equipment, but still wasn't sure what she was doing with them.  It bothered him that she would hide something from him, and it bothered him even more that she was pushing him away again.

'_Que_ (what) have I done to deserve this?'  He thought to himself, and then shook his head and spoke aloud.

"Pffft, y' never worried 'bout any _femme _(woman) pushin' y' 'way before, why y' startin' _maintenant_ (now)?"

'Eh, well, y' never been pushed 'way by a _femme _before, now have ya?'  The voice in his head answered back.  Remy shook his head again.  He was NOT going to have a conversation with himself, not now.  He let a long sigh.

"_J'ai__ besoin un boisson!_ (I need a drink!)"  Remy declared to the night.  As he looked around him once more, he finally took in the changes that had occurred since his arrival at this spot.  The lights from the city were fewer, and the starts above were brighter.  He smiled, he liked it better that way.  Night-time and a peaceful city, the perfect time for crime.  Remy's hands itched, but he had made a promise to Rogue not to cause anymore trouble by stealing, even if he did return the goods the next day and never was caught.  Remy cursed his own decision, but let the thought go as he mounted his Harley and headed to a favorite "watering hole," as he called it.  

Remy started the bike and gave one final shake of his head before racing toward the bar.  "_Femmes!_"  He muttered, "can' live wit' um," his eyes sparkled as he thought of a way to finish the cliché.  "_Mais__,_ de bedroom would be a lot less fun withou' um."  He frowned.  He needed to work on that last part.  Maybe a beer or two would inspire him.  With that final thought, he was gone into the night.

A few minutes later, Remy pulled his bike into the parking lot of a small, rather shady-looking pub.  He notice the other bike in the lot, another Harley, like his, but the finish was a bit duller, and instead of solid blocks of color, this one was yellow with raggid black stripes down the sides, which made it look as if the bike had been sliced with very sharp knives.  Remy smiled.  "Logan," he muttered to himself, "guess Remy won' be drinkin' _solitairement_ (alone) afta all."  He parked his beauty and walked into the bar through the back door.  The bartender nodded at him as he entered and Remy replied in kind.  He then scanned the small room for his friend.  There, at the bar, by the TV, was a short yet solid man, a scruffy beard surrounding a scowl on his face, a Cuban cigar in his mouth, and a Canadian beer in his hands.  His eyes were focused on the TV and he pounded the bar in frustration.

"Come on!  Make a decent call for once in your pitiful life, ya bastard!"  He screamed at the screen as Remy ordered a beer and walked over to the outraged man known simply as Logan.  Logan's eyes did not flinch from the screen as Remy sat down next to him, but he still greeted the younger man with a gruff, "hey Gumbo."

Remy answered with a slight nodded, for although the older man was not looking at him, Remy knew he would see it, or sense it somehow.  After taking a swig of the beer, Remy grinned at his friend and asked the obvious, "Y' team not doin' so well?"

The other man made a sound somewhere between a growl and a laugh.  "Course not," he answered, "they're my team after—HEY!  Come ON you stupid bastard!  Call something right for once!"

Remy laughed at his friend's agrevation over the game and recalled the many times Logan had growled at Jubilee for talking to the TV set.  "It's no use hun, they ain't gonna hear ya."  The girl had ignored his advice and continued to tell the characters "Don't go in there!" or "But he DOES love you!"  Remy was about to call the older man on doing what he had told the teen not to do countless times, but at that moment, Logan spoke up.

"Damn, lost again!"  He took another drink from his beer without removing his cigar and shifted his vision to the man sitting next to him.  "So what are you doing here, Gumbo?  Rogue kick your ass again?"  Logan smiled at the Cajun, revealing his sharp canines.

Remy gave a weak smile in return.  "_Non, mon ami_ (no, my friend), well, no' really a' leas'.  She tol' m' she was busy tonight, had some t'ings she needed to be doin'."  Remy frowned at the memory.  Rogue had been very aloof as to what exactly those things were and it bothered him.  Remembering that was why he was there, he took another drink and looked back at Logan who frowned slightly in return, took a long draw on his cigar and finally replied.

"Look, Gumbo, I ain't exactly the best person to talk to 'bout crap like this, but I do think I should say something."  Remy raised an eyebrow and a smirk came to his face, curious what the wild-man might have to say.  He had a feeling that Logan might even know what Rogue was up to.  "You know the girl cares for ya, it's just that Stripes, well, she's got special circumstances in her life that need to be taken care of.  She's been avoiding some of um for a while now, and I think she's tired of runnin' 'way from um."  While he was speaking, Logan had been looking at the label on his bottle, as if reading a script or trying to remember something.  He looked back up at the man he was speaking to at the end and gave him a small smile.  "She don't mean ta push ya away Cajun, there are just some things she's gotta do alone for now.  She'll tell ya 'bout it when she can."

Remy gave his companion a weak smile.  "_Merci, mon ami_ (thank you, my friend)."  But this little speech didn't really help.  He was tired of being left in the dark.  He cared about Rogue more than any girl he had ever known and he didn't like her pushing him away, even if she had a noble cause.

The two men sat in silence for a while longer, both drinking and thinking about various events or people.  Remy could tell Logan was still a bit peeved about the game that had just ended.  He heard the man mutter something about tracking down the coach and giving him a pep talk of his own device.  A while later, both men were ready to leave and walked out to their bikes.  As Logan mounted his, Remy flashed another evil grin and challenged the other man.  "Race y'," he teased.  

Logan broke out into a full guttural laugh before glaring at the younger man.  "Gumbo, I'd make it there and back four times before you even found the exit to the lot!"  

Remy's eyes shimmered as he replied with a cocky, "prove it, _mon__ vieux_ (old man)!"

"A'right," Logan agreed.  "Ya want a head start, boy?"

"Funny, Remy 'bout to ask y' that!"  The Cajun grinned as he mounted and revved up his Harley.  Logan started his as well, and with one final glare at each other, they were off.  It was true that Logan had more experience on the machines than Remy, but Remy's agility came to his aid while he weaved his way down the crowded street.  Although it was about 2am, the streets were still moderately busy, it was Saturday night after all.  The two men were taking the same roads, to keep track of each other more than anything, and they continued to check their opponent's progress.  Remy was a little behind Logan as they were coming up to a light.  The light changed to yellow and the car in front of Logan slowed down to stop.  He tried to get around it, but Remy took this chance and gunned it, cutting off the Canadian native.  Logan cussed as he flew by, and Remy gave him a one-finger wave.  It was this move that allowed Remy to reach the destination and dismount his winning Harley just a few seconds before his opponent arrived.  Remy smiled as Logan pulled up, the anger he felt was apparent on his face.  Logan quickly shut off and dismounted his bike before charging towards Remy.  Knowing the older man wouldn't seriously hurt him, Remy stood his ground.  Logan stopped right in front of the Cajun, glaring at the cocky smile on his face and raising a fist in front of the man's chest.

"You pull another stunt like that, Cajun," the man growled rather than spoke, and then his trademark claws shot out of his fist, the tips of them just brushing against Remy's throat.  "One more stunt like that," he repeated, "and that precious bike of yours is getting a new body job!"  

Remy glared at the man now and shook his head.  "Not cool, Wolverine.  Threaten Remy all y' want, but don' even JOKE 'bout touchin' my bike!"

"Oh yeah?"  Wolverine continued, with a little humor in his voice.  "And what are you gonna do about it, bub?"

Remy knew the man was joking, in his own sick way, but he still kept a stone cold face as his pulled a playing card out of his long, brown leather duster and charged it to a glowing red in front of the other man's face.  Then Remy broke into a smile and said, "you touch m' bike, and I beat y' to a humiliatin' bloody pulp in a real gentl'men's fashion."

"What's that?"  Logan tried not to smile back at the man, for he knew what was coming.

Remy's smile grew.  "I beat y' in a game o' cards."  And with that he stopped charging the object in his hand and showed that he was not holding just one card, but five; all four ace's and the king of hearts.

Logan retracted his metal claws and chuckled at the boy.  "Ya know, Gumbo, those little jokes of yours need work."

Remy shrugged and put the cards back into his duster.  "_Et_ (And) y' need to work on y'r actin'."  Both men laughed as they put their bikes away and walked into the place they both called home.  The sign out front read "Xavier's School for the Gifted," but it was more than just a school.  It was a safe haven for mutants, a place where they could go, not only to learn math, science, and English, but also how to control those things that made them different from the rest of humanity.  It was a place dedicated to turning curses into gifts, as well as promoting the ideas of peace and understanding to the world.  It was some kind of home to all who stayed there.  To some, it was a second home, to others, like Remy, it was the only home they had left.  Remy realized this every time he returned to this place, this home of his.  And tonight was no exception.

Remy walked down the dark halls, they were so familiar to him now, that he could have done this without his sensitive vision.  He walked down to the teachers' dormitory and headed towards his room.  On the way, however he passed Rogue's.  He noticed there was a light flickering out from under her door and he wondered what she was doing up so late.  He reached for the door knob, but then pulled back.

'She said she wanted to be left 'lone to work tonight…' he thought.  He looked at the door a little while longer, debating whether or not to enter.  He wanted to go in, but didn't want Rogue upset at him, he had told her he would let her be alone tonight after all.  But, it was technically morning.  BUT, maybe she'd appreciate him more if he gave her the space she wanted.  BUT…

Remy shook his head.  "Screw it," he said aloud to himself and he turned the knob and opened the door a crack.  "_Chére__?_ (Dear?)"

…………………..TO BE CONTINUED…………………………….

**A/N:  Bwhahahaha!  I know, I know, I'm evil.  I promised you all ROMY, and here it is, chapter 3, and still no ROMY action.  But, remember, patience is a virtue.  *Realizes that the angry crowd of ROMY fans coming towards her with various pointy implements of doom does not care about virtues.*  Nono, wait!  I have my reasons for writing this chapter, and I promise that I will include fluff, I'm just trying to set some things up.  Not really a plot, but more of a mood type thing.  Ah, hell, I don't know, I'm just writing this as it comes, I really don't know what's coming next until I sit down and writing it out (um, type it out?).  Please don't hurt me!  The ROMY will come, and when it does, it will be that much more fluffy and shiny and good.  So, as usual, I beg of you to spare my life (after all, if you kill me, you'll never get your ROMY fluff!), and, of course, review.  I'll probably write more this weekend, but right now I'm tired and I think I'll take a nap before dinner and going to see Hidalgo (mmmm, Viggo Mortensen… and a horsey!  Weeee!)  Have a groovy weekend and I love you all, even if you do want to kill me.**

~YllisBellaDonna~


	4. A Vision of Beauty

**A/N:  Hhhhhokay, so, turns out Genetics and French didn't kill me after all.  Aren't you happy?  What do you mean you don't care?  Well, I'm updating, does THAT make you happy?  Thought so.  Anyways, here are some responses to my reviewers:**

**danie68:  Thank you, and I'll try to live up to your request of "more" romyness…**

**DemonicGambit****:  I hope you've kept your patience, and I WILL deliver!  There is a 99.9% chance of fluffyness.**

**Rogue14:  I feel I must first and foremost apologize to you.  I don't know what happened to me that day when I was writing… I tend to space out at times.  Like, say, naming Rogue's first boyfriend/kiss Bobby when his name was Cody, and making that stupid spelling mistake.  Thank you for the grace of the correction, seriously though, I don't know how you people put up with me…  Maybe I should just stop writing this.  ;o)  Seriously though, I went back over the story and tried to fix it, I hope I succeeded.  Feel free to point out any other mistakes.**

**c-marabini****:  Welcome back!  Don't feel bad about having a life outside of fanfiction!  Yeah, life for us "oldies" is tough, huh?  ;o)  To answer your question: yes, they are the best couple ever.  Rogue's strong and beautiful at the same time and Remy… well, he's just all around great.  LOVE the accent too.  Accents ROCK!  Too bad I don't have one.  :o(**

**T. and Tammy:  I thought I'd respond to you together since you wrote similar reviews, hope you don't mind.  But, as for your ideas about the meeting between Rogue and our Ragin' Cajun, I think I just might surprise you both…  *evil grin***

**ishandahalf****:  Of course I gave your fic a "huzzah!"  And thank you for the gold stars, tangent:  I actually use to carry around gold-star stickers and give them out to people just for fun.  Anyway, I know that my progress on this fic has been slower than a bunny on crack, but, we're not allowed to have bunnies in the dorms (sorry, RESIDENT HALLS) where I live, unless they can live underwater for over 2 minutes or something like that.  And I have yet to devise a scuba-tank for a bunny.  Besides, I hear they don't hop as well underwater…  Oh yes, and bar scenes are cool indeedy.**

**Star-of-Chaos:  I don't think you'll have to wait much longer.  ;o)**

**On to the regular stuff:**

**Disclaimer:  Okay, so I've been plotting, er, I mean, thinking about ways to get the X-Men into my greedy little hands while I was suppose to be listening in my Genetics class, but, maybe if I did well enough in Genetics, I could make my own X-Men!  Crap, what do you mean I got a D+ on the test?  Well, there goes that idea…  To summarize, I do not own the X-Men *pouts*  Oh, and this chapter contains adult material, thus the upped rating (again).  If you can't think about where babies come from without giggling, you probably shouldn't be reading this…**

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A Vision of Beauty

Rogue had a strange feeling that night.  She was watching TV when she apparently fell asleep and then woke up a while later, but she couldn't read the clock.  The glowing red digital numbers on it didn't look like numbers at all.  'Odd,' she thought, then turned her gaze back to the set.  The picture on it wasn't really moving like it normally did, but looked as if it was flowing.  Rogue closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to straighten out whatever wiring had gone wrong inside it.  When she opened her eyes again the picture on the TV was different, but it wasn't the way it moved that caught her attention, it was the show.  She had been watching some reality television show about some teens and twenty-somethings that were sent off to live in a house by themselves in the middle of a big party city.  But the show that she was looking at now was a talk show.  Rogue hated talk shows.  Well, to be honest, she wasn't crazy about the reality show, but it was funny watching the kids screw around.  Kind of sad, but addicting non-the-less.  Rogue concentrated more on the talk show.  She could have sworn the people on it being interviewed, cheered, and booed by the crowd were her fellow X-Men.  She squinted to try to make out the names that showed under the picture that looked like Jean and Scott dressed in rather revealing leather outfits, but heard a noise from the door.  

_"Chére?"_  The voice was soft and she didn't even hear the doorknob turn or the man step into the room but when she shut of the TV and turned around, he was there, in front of her.  His hair was wind-blown and crazy in that sexy kind of way and he had a smile on his soft, oh-so-kissable lips.  As for his eyes, well, don't get her started on those!  The glowing red orbs on the solid black background seemed to delve into her soul.  She felt vulnerable yet safe with him near, like he really knew her but wasn't about to tell anyone else the secrets that lay hidden inside her.  Somehow he looked better tonight than she could ever remember.  

"Forgive m' if I be intruden' on anyt'ing _chére_," he said, his smile growing larger, "but I t'ought m'be it be time fo' y' ta sleep, _non_?"  

Rogue opened her mouth to give one of her famous smart-assed remarked, but before she could form the words, Remy had bent down and lifted her up into his arms, cradling her while he began to walk over to her bed.  Rogue didn't have much time to contemplate her reaction, but she had two choices.  One: fight back and protest about being treated like such a trophy or object.  Two: enjoy the ride for once.  Rogue made the split second decision, influenced by her weariness, to relax and let the Swamp Rat have things his way for once.  'But only this once,' she thought.

Remy lay the beautiful creature in his arms down on her feather-soft bed and leaned over her, brushing a stray streak of white hair out of her face.  His gloved hand then touched her face and he gave a soft frown.  "Y' cold, _ma chére_," he whispered and then smiled, "how's 'bout I help y' wit' dat?"  The smile on his face was mischievous but at the same time loving, as he took Rogue into his arms.  It certainly did help with the cold.  The warmth that came from being in Remy's arms was more than just the transfer of heat between the two of them.  It warmed her from her center; the best kind of warmth there is.  Normally Rogue would pull away, to prevent the two from touching skin-to-skin, but tonight she snuggled even closer to the handsome man next to her.  

"Rogue…"  The Cajun whispered her name into her ear as the two drew closer to one another, so close to touching his smooth, delicious lips with her own red, soft ones.  "Rogue…"  He whispered her name again, longing in his deep, sultry voice.  Longing and something more.  He brushed a stray hair back away from her face and smiled at her with a look in his eyes Rogue had never seen before.  His emotions were unguarded, his emotional fields were dropping, leaving his soul open to her.  Rogue looked into his eyes, searching for a sign, any sign that would tell her what she wanted to know.  Her eyes were locked on his, but before she could decipher anything, he leaned in suddenly, taking her lips with his in a passionate kiss.  

Now if Remy was stupid enough to try this with her any other time, Rogue's defenses would have kicked in, pushing him away so hard and fast he'd be wondering what had happened a week later.  Any other time, but not now.  Why she didn't fall back onto her reflexes, she didn't know, she didn't waste any time thinking about though.  She closed her eyes, let a small moan escape, and opened her mouth to his imploring tongue and the kiss deepened.  Rogue ran her hands through his messy yet silky auburn hair and tilted more on to her back, allowing Remy to prop himself on one arm so that he was partially over her, his other hand behind her head, directing her slightly and pulling her up closer to him.  Then he caressed her face with his bare hand.  It felt much smoother against her skin than she thought it would and she wrapped her arms around him tighter, pulling him more on top of her as well as closer to her body.  He began kissing down her jaw-line to her neck where he sucked lightly on her soft skin.  She moaned a little louder as she felt his hot breath on her neck, not to mention that heavenly thing he was doing with his mouth.

Rogue seemed to slip in and out of reality as her lover's hands slowly progressed down her body.  It was too good to be true, but she didn't think about it.  Thinking took too much away from the experience and she wanted to experience all she could.  It was when Remy's hands had made their way to her chest and began caressing her breasts that Rogue realized just how much she had wanted this.  She arched her back, pushing herself toward the amazingly sexy man who was now completely on top of her, his legs between hers.  She moaned even louder and her hands moved down under his shirt.  Her bare hands felt the clearly defined muscles of his stomach and moved around and up his back.  Lean muscle and the smoothest skin she had ever dreamed of were what she felt.  Rogue tried to pull up his shirt when he stopped kissing her lips and moved back towards her ear.

"Rogue…"  He whispered her name once more, this time there was a hint of sadness in his sexy tones.  "_Chére_…  I…"  He pulled up to look at her in her deep, emerald eyes.  His eyes looked into her.  He looked almost at a loss for words.

She smiled, brushed the hair away from his face and cooed, "yes, sug?"

"I…  BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!"  

The noise that came from him wasn't of him.  Suddenly the wonderful image of Remy LeBeau looking down from on top of her went to black and she opened her eyes.  The annoying beeping was her alarm clock, blinking 6:30am.

'A DREAM?!?!?!'  Rogue cursed to herself.  No, it couldn't have all been a dream.  It felt so real, so true, so good.  Rogue hit the alarm clock a bit harder than she really needed to to stop the beeping.  That cursed beeping.  It pulled her out of heaven and for that she hated it and wasn't a bit sad when her hit caused the plastic on top of the clock to crack.  Rogue sighed, pulled herself out of bed and went to put on clothes instead of PJ's.  But when she got out of bed she realized she wasn't in her PJ's.  The clothes she was wearing were the same she had on the night before, after she had gotten upset with the device and had sat down again to watch some more TV.  The device.  She checked her wrist where the indicator light was a fast-paced flashing orange.  She concentrated harder on controlling her powers and the flashing slowed and the light turned green.  She then turned her thoughts to the other night and her dream.  His voice.  His voice had sounded so real.  Had Remy come in?  Had he carried her sleeping body to her bed?  How much was real?  How much was fantasy?  She shook her head and made up her mind to ask Remy about it later that morning.  But, right now she had to get dressed and get to the danger room quick so that Logan wouldn't have a reason to give her extra torture.  In her mind, danger room sessions at 7 am were torture enough!

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**Well, there it is, that's what you've been waiting for.  Was it worth the wait?  I hope so.  If not, you'll just have to wait some more.  One of the main reasons this hasn't been updated sooner is that I was on Spring Break last week, and quite busy.  Now I'm back at school, though still busy, I have more of a need for a break from school-work.  While I didn't type anything while I was gone, I did think (I know, it's a dangerous past-time) about this story and I might have a couple more chapters planed out, at least roughly.  So, please review and tell me what you think.  There will be real Romy fluffyness (well, as real as these fanFICTIONS can get) and more fun stuff.  Well, I'm off to plan out my future now!  Ta!**

**~YllisBellaDonna~**


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